


The queen's song

by commxnder



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Clexa is Endgame, F/F, Royal Affair AU, Smut, Violence, this is not a Bellarke fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 08:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commxnder/pseuds/commxnder
Summary: Work based on reshopgoufa's and hopelesslehane's tumblr AU.At first it's only desire. The queen is drawn to the Commander of the royal army and it's exciting because it's forbidden.But the want soon turns into love. A feeling they can't stop and put both of their lives in danger.





	The queen's song

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I just wanted you to know that this is a fic I published a year ago. I never finished the old one, it barely had four chapters written. The plot is basically the same but it has been rewritten. I'm sorry for changing it but hopefully it is for the better.
> 
> If you find mistakes please tell me and I'll gladly correct them. Thanks!

 

“Raven… I can’t hardly breathe.” 

“My apologies, Your Grace.” Said the servant. “Maybe I should bring another one?”

“No, I want this one.” Answered the queen. She ran her hands over the fabric surrounding her torso. “I love how it looks on me.” 

The queen set her eyes over her own reflect on the mirror. The corset embraced her ribs, curving strategically her waist while her breast overflowed at the top of the garment.

The few rays of sun that were leaking through the cracks of the curtains’ bedroom coated her pale skin, warming her body wherever they fell. The brief cold of the morning giving her goosebumps all over her naked thighs.

Raven went to a chest of drawers where moments ago she had prepared a hot water bowl. “It really does look good on you.” She soaked a little cloth and returned to Clarke’s front. 

Clarke welcomed the delicacy with what the maid pushed aside her face a couple of blonde locks and tucked them behind her ears. Then, she began to clean her face, getting rid of those last trails of fatigue from the queen’s expression.

The maid moved the cloth down her chin and over her neck finally reaching the queen’s cleavage. “God, you could share some of this.” Said raven feeling the flesh under her fingers. The action pulled up a loud laugh from Clarke.

“I doubt the king would agree with that.” Said the queen. Raven placed herself behind her. “If I’d share some, as you say, Bellamy would be capable of locking me in this room for a whole month.” Her intention was to joke, it really was, but the smile on her face quickly faced away as she realized it was not something the king wasn’t capable of doing. Her sober expression returned. “You know how he is.”

The young woman started brushing her blonde waves. “Well, I too would act in an overprotective way if I had a spouse as beautiful as you, Your Grace. Every man in this castle desire you. It is, therefore, understandable that Your Majesty wants to make clear whose wife are you.” Raven lifted two ribbons, a white one and a red one. “Red. It’s his favorite color.” Said Clarke pointing at the red ribbon’s reflect on the mirror.

Raven nodded. “I’m sure he is dying to return to your side, Your Grace.”

The queen’s eyes were fixed on her flat abdomen, empty. Of course the king wanted to return to her side. Although, it wasn’t necessarily because he wanted to see her face. Or hug her. Or kiss her. What he wanted was for her wife to give him an heir once and for all. Clarke felt a brief twitch in her stomach, heat crawling towards her lungs.

He was obsessed with this first-born, that, sooner or later, he would get.

 

* * *

 

Both sides’ screams were mixing up with each other. Just as the blood that was falling to the ground, eager to lick the feet of those who still managed to stand. The one of nobles, soldiers, generals and royalty was mingled in an attempt to spoil the air with that characteristic metallic smell, putrefied after some hours.

The field was trembling with the horses’ trot and the men’s strides, charging against each other. All the shoves, the clash between armor and sword, the cries of pain. All of that noise going unnoticed for Lexa. Once she entered the field, the Commander was oblivious to all that chaos surrounding her.

Her look set a target, her sword took their life. She had ears for her king’s commands and nothing else. She had eyes for her victims and nothing else. A soldier made the perfect weapon.

“Get up and fight for a decent death.” The Commander ordered. “Get up!”

The soldier, already breathless, made an effort to get in his knees. He could barely stand on all fours. Blood still coming out from the flesh where the Commander had her metal stuck before. He rose up his head as far as he could and even found a last outbreak of strength to spit at Lexa’s boots. The action earned a chuckle from her.

If he only could shove her to the ground, that would give him a couple of seconds to get his sword back. But everything ended too soon for him. With a brutal kick on his jaw, Lexa removed the highest vertebra in his spine, twisting his head in an almost impossible way. Oxygen couldn’t make it to his lungs.

Before his knees gave out and let his body went limp, another man charged his sword against Lexa. But she reacted right in time, pushing to a side the man’s weapon. The clash of both swords sending a jolt through Lexa’s arm. The Commander smiled at the welcomed itch. “That’s the best you can do?”

The arrogance the Commander showed off never failed to upset her opponents. She was conscious of how her haughty words and little games affected them and she took advantage of that. Men couldn’t stand that a woman was better than them in battle, even less that a woman mocked them. Lexa’s laugh poisoned their insides. They became upset. They got impatient. Their movements started to turn rough, violent, imprecise. And then, they missed. That was when Lexa took the opportunity.

“You fucking bitch…” Spit out the soldier. “Do you think just because someone gave you a sword you can fight in a man’s war?”

Suddenly, another two soldiers came out of nowhere and the Commander found herself flanked.

Lexa payed attention to both of her sides. One of the men was armed with a sword. Slightly taller than her. Much wider. His armor had to be tailor-made, the junctions visibly patched up. There was one bigger than the rest, on his left knee, maybe because of a previous hit. The other man looked scared, insecure of his movements. He probably heard of the almighty Commander before. Hidden behind his shield. Younger. He didn’t even hold his mace properly. A novice.

Her grin grew wider.

“I’ll put that pretty smile on a stake.” He barked.

Lexa glanced at her left. She winked at the bigger soldier and before he could even knit his brows in confusion, Lexa had reached a sharp dagger hid behind her thigh. She threw it right at the hole on his armor, sinking it in his unprotected flesh. The man fell right after with a sharp cry.

The young one charged against her with his shield. Lexa just griped its edge before it could graze her side. Her heels buried into the mud. An animalistic growl came from her insides as she shoved the shield ahead of her and threw the soldier against the one standing.

With a stride, the Commander stood next to the burlier one, still panting on de ground. She tore off the helmet that protected his head and sank her sword on his jugular. The last cry he pretended to emit, silenced by the cold steel piercing his trachea. The red sprouting from his mouth kept Lexa distracted barely a couple of seconds. Insignificant but enough to allow the young soldier to approach her and smash her back with his mace. The pain making its way through her shoulder blade. But she didn’t flinch. She won’t give those bastards the pleasure of listening her groans.

Lexa could hear the soft tinkling of the chain behind hear, threatening with a new hit. She turned on the spot to visualize her opponent and when he threw her second blow, she raised her arm. The mace colliding with it. The metallic points didn’t perforate her armor. The chain coiled around her wrist. The soldier pulled his weapon trying to unhook it from the Commanders arm, but it was already late. His gaze fixed oh her lips. He realized his mistake.

“I’m sorry nobody taught you to handle one of this, boy.” And while she said those words, Lexa had her dagger again on his hand.

With a quick movement, she buried it right in the middle of his forehead. She didn’t really think that counterattack. It was so brute. She just did it. The sound of the cranium breaking around her blade sent shivers down her spine.

The soldier’s look went lost to the horizon. She shoved the body to her side. “Now I’m getting bored.” Mumbled the Commander as she got up.

Her body tensed with the anticipation. Her sword preparing for another prey.

The warrior charged against her last opponent. A hit. Another. Another. She moved like a savage. The blade reaching the soldier and coming back to Lexa’s side with such force. Every blow well-aimed. Every blow mortal. He tried to fight back but it was impossible. Lexa didn’t let them a second to recover.

A last hit had his sword on the ground, too far away from him, and a fresh cut on the back of his hand.

Lexa let her own sword drop to the dirt. She then griped the metallic collar of the man’s armor and with a kick in his shin, the third soldier fell to the ground.

The Commander bend down over him. Right knee on his back. Left knee on his forearm. Like an animal just hunted. Still under the height of its predator.

She took his arm and started pulling it backwards. The soldier shifting in panic. “One.” Said Lexa with a tedious tone when she heard the crack of his bones. The soldier screaming. Because of pain. Because of fear.

Lexa moved closer to the other arm. Same position. A knee on his back, the other on his forearm. “Please. Plea—.” The second crack killed his words. “Two.” Said Lexa.

“Oh my God. Stop please!” Cried the soldier. Tears muffling her voice.

“Now you beg…”

Lexa turned his body on his back. His look unfocused. Probably dizzy because of the pain.

She moved lower and repeated the process with his legs. A knee on his stomach. A knee on his thigh. The Commander took his leg and pulled. “Three.” The soldier was so exhausted he couldn’t even cry anymore.

“And…” Lexa repositioned herself. Crack. “Four.”

His body seemed to be sleep, but at the same time every inch hurt. It hurt so much.

Lexa got up and for the last time took him by his collar, sat him angling his body so it stood straight over a rock and patted her hair. “Here you have.” She said waving the battlefield, now quieter than before. “Enjoy your man’s war.”

His eyes were almost closed but still, he could draw a wicked smile on Lexa’s face.

“Is it really necessary to do… all of this?” Her general’s voice sounded like a distant echo. She couldn’t even make out the words.

Lexa sheathed her sword. Hopefully he would be conscious a couple of hours. He could see how his own men were wiped out. Lexa looked proud of his work.

“Limit yourself to fight and forget these stupid shows.” Anya said.

“Talk to me with more respect. Sometimes I get the feeling that you forget I’m your superior.” She bit back.

“And sometimes I get the feeling that you forget I don’t give a shit about it.” Replied Anya.

Lexa chuckled at the cheekiness of her general. If she had been someone else, she would have cut her tongue by now. But not Anya. Not her mentor.

The howl of the trumpets drew both of the women’s attention. Lexa contemplated the field that extended in front of them. Full of bodies and dirt. “That was easy.” Said Anya looking at the scene. “Now comes the fun.”

But it was really the fun?

Now they went into the city. They sacked its houses. They burned everything in their path. And then they found civilians. Lexa suppressed a gag. She had no problem ignoring the soldiers’ cries in battle, but she couldn’t ignore women’s and children’s ones so easily.

“Commander, with me!” The king shouted from the distance.

 

* * *

 

Battle didn’t end until they could hear their people’s cheering. 

Lexa smiled at the thought of coming home. People waited for them to greet them as if they were heroes. But they were just men, killing some other men just because two stubborn kings decided to play war.

The more covered in blood they came, the more they were praised. Although, the Commander didn’t care about praise, her only goal at the end of the day was to bring her men back safe and sound. She was devoted to her people. A protective instinct that escaped her judgement.

The gates of the fortress finally opened and the crowd roared.

At the top of the main stairs of the palace, the queen waited patiently. That woman was the only one who kept her composure. Her glance was sober and lost, as usual. It wasn’t until the king unseated his horse and approached her that she focused her look. She pushed aside a couple of black locks, a bit greasy, that were hiding his eyes and ran her hand down his face, rough because of the growing beard. He had a tough countenance. His sunken eyes with dark circles under. His cheekbones a little more pronounced. His cheeks thinner than the day he set off.

“Welcome.” Said Clarke in a whisper.

More than hearing her words, the king read them from her lips, already parting for him.

“Well met, my queen.” Answered Bellamy before kissing her.

The Commander climbed the stairs to where king and queen were. Her eyes fixed on her. For a brief moment, wishing her lips to be the ones pressed to the queen’s and not his. They looked so soft, so full, so fleshy. The queen put some distance between her and her spouse and licked her upper lip. So wet.

But she had to settle for kissing her hand. 

It was already tradition the queen’s speech when they returned from the battlefield. It was always the same, like a rehearsed play theater. Like a performance. Lexa knew it by heart.

“I want to welcome all of you.” Started the queen. “I want to thank you, in the name of all of your people, for the great task you do outside this walls. Your bravery will be duly rewarded by the Crown. And the memory of those who perished fighting will be honored.”

All the same. Word by word. But still, people loved it.

“I also want to thank God, for giving you all the strength to fight for your kingdom and the courage to die for your king.”

But she wasn’t a devoted woman. Never in her life Lexa saw her praying. Not once.

“Every day I’ve prayed for my king to win the battle and return to home, to his place, which is by my side.”

And of course, she had to remain all the subjects reunited there how loved they were. Even if tomorrow they were dying of hunger and their kings couldn’t care less.

“I’m so happy to have each one of you here today. Together we will celebrate the victory and mourn the lost ones.”

And then it was her turn, finally.

“To conclude, I’d love to thank our best soldier. Lexa, the Commander of the greatest army the North has ever had. She is the reason why our soldiers come home sound and with another triumph behind their backs.”

Clarke extended her hand and the Commander took it to kiss it while she bended.

For Lexa those barely three seconds were the only ones that were worthy the whole show her queen put. The same hand moments ago caressed the king’s face was now subdued to her mouth. Her pale skin was incredibly soft. So different to hers. A simple touch like that gave free rein to her imagination. She wondered if all her body was so soft. Maybe it was even more. She wondered if her voice was that soft, if her moans were that soft. Lexa couldn’t hold back those thoughts.

She puffed a hot breath of air as her mouth separated from Clarke’s hand and the queen let a pant out. Imperceptible for all. Except for Lexa.

The Commander looked at her so intensely. When she stared at her with those green orbs like that, Clarke had the feeling that she was undressing her, there, in front of everyone. She felt exposed. Little. Thrilled.

The queen was a gorgeous woman and she was completely conscious of this. And of how her beauty affected people around her. Men gazes followed her timidly everywhere. They tried to please her every time they could. They tried to impress her. Only to retreat cowardly when the king was around. Nobody laid an eye on her when he was present.

But Lexa was different.

Lexa was bold. Daring. Even insolent. The king didn’t scare her. She didn’t even notice his presence when Clarke was around her.

Her eyes followed Clarke down the hallways. Thirsty, They glued to her neck, her breasts, her hips.

She got closer at the slightest opportunity. Impossibly closer. Dangerously closer.

“Raven.” The queen’s voice pulling her out of her thoughts. “Make sure the Commander finds herself comfortable. And take care of every necessity she could have, please.” She emphasized those last words.

“Of course, Your Grace.”

 

* * *

 

Her body quiet on the bed, the dress already forgotten on the floor. The red ribbon of her hair too. It was cold. 

He hoovered over her. His mouth so close to her that she could even smell his breath. Hot. Bitter.

His pupils blown. His smile growing. Sometimes Clarke imagined his large teeth getting bigger, his fangs lengthening, his mouth devouring her under the dim light of the candles.

“Did you miss me?” Asked the king after moving his lips closer.

They kissed roughly. Their teeth clashing. Bellamy’s tongue demanding its way inside Clarke’s mouth, exploring every inch. She could see his freckles spread over his nose and cheeks, like the night sky, threatening to swallow her.

He came up for air. “You know the answer.” Mumbled Clarke.

The king gripped her jaw and pressed until it opened. “I want to hear it from those full, sweet lips of yours.” He muttered. His hand making its way until he slipped through her legs, forcing them open. “Answer me.” He demanded.

Suddenly he plunged two fingers inside her. “I didn’t.” Her words were harsh as she closed her eyes.

Bellamy started to move. In and out. In and out. His hand burned. Clarke tried to calm her breathing. It was as if the air didn’t want to come down her lungs. It gathered at her mouth but couldn’t pass from there. The muscles on her neck tensing from the effort of tying to breath.

“Of course you didn’t.” He said with a chuckle.

The king removed his fingers and put both of his hands at each side of Clarke’s head. His dick brushing against the soft skin of her inner thigh, heavy, already leaking at the tip at the thought of being buried deep inside her white heat.

“You’re going to give me a beautiful child, aren’t you?” It was a question but it came out more like an order. Clarke grimaced at the words. “Put it in.”

Clarke’s trembling hands descended between their bodies to reach his member, hanging from his legs. It twitched when Clarke’s hand wrapped around its length and a shiver crossed her back. Bellamy lowered her head and licked a path from her cleavage to her neck, stopping right below her ear. His tongue drooling over her flesh, like an animal over her prey. “Come on, beautiful.” She hated when the king called her like that. As if they were a normal couple. A couple in love.

Clarke lined him up. When the tip barely was touching her inner lips he entered her in a thrust and Clarke let a cry scape her mouth at the sting.

Her legs closed above his wide back, as if they had a mind of their own, and Bellamy began to charge against her. Each thrust reaching deeper than the previous. His pants growing louder. His jaw dropped. Like a dog.

That sound made her sick.

Then he hid his face in the crook of her neck. His movements becoming sloppy. His hips flattering, tempted to give out. But he wouldn’t do it.

Clarke put her palms on his chest and pushed the body over her backwards but Bellamy soon stopped her. He stayed couple of seconds while he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. “Don’t.” He said as he picked up the pace.

“What’s the matter?” Asked her king. “Hm? You don’t want to fuck? Have you been fucked while I was at the damn war?” His voice rising.

The queen averted her gaze, not wanting to see his face.

“Maybe we are lucky enough and he did get you pregnant.” Spitted Bellamy. “You’d like that? A growing bump under your breasts?” His dick throbbing at his own words.

“God I can imagine it. Your belly full, your breasts even larger. Your hips-”

His dick gave a last twitch as it shot thick ropes of cum, milking her insides. When her orgasm ended her body rolled off Clarke.

The queen turned on her side, wanting to put some space between them. But Bellamy moved closer and throw a protective arm over her.

“Don’t cry love.” Said the king. “I’m exhausted and I need to sleep, alright?”

Clarke just kept quiet for the rest of the night.

 


End file.
